My Good Morning Julia
by Lader
Summary: The first morning after for Spike and Julia, and things aren't what Spike was hoping for...


This is my first fanfiction "evah"… its the morning after Julia and Spike have started "the affair" but its not quite "the affair" yet...its just a mess...i don't think i need to explain much more...hope you enjoy it thoroughly...

**DISCLAIMER! I don't own any of the characters of Bebop… I'm working on it… but until then, please refrain from suing me… it's just not neighborly.**

I can see my cigarettes from here. The white top of the carton is peaking out from my pant pocket across the room. I have 5 left. They're Marlboro's. Unfiltered. Amazing. And I want them in a way that I never have. I would literally blow my way through a hundred men for even the tiniest drag. But I don't have to get through a hundred men. I have to get through Julia, and she is suddenly a 400 foot concrete wall. She sits rigidly on the side of the bed, elbows drawn tight against her bare body, muscles tense and thinking. She wants this to not have happened. Even though I cannot see her face I know she is worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, wishing herself into her bedroom across the city, away from mine, away from me. With the way she sits now it's hard to imagine that just a few hours ago my name was playing out across her lips in heaved whispers. The hickey on my neck and her dress puddled on the floor the only remaining evidence of what had happened.

I am spread out inelegantly on the bed behind her, propped up on my elbows, poised for action, go to her, speak… throw the lamp against the wall. But I am frozen between them, wanting to move but somehow unable to and wishing to god for a cigarette so I had _something_ to do with my hands. Last night I had known exactly what I wanted to say to her. It was great, flowery romance novel stuff that chicks always seem to like. But now it seemed like a mess, it just felt so wrong and stupid. Like there was nothing I could say that would work. This unfamiliar and cold kind of distance I had feared, but expected from her this morning. The dreaded morning after, so we finally meet.

She turns slowly where she sits, taking time to gather her thoughts, carefully arranging the words together in a pattern that might not hurt me. _I'm not a bad person_, Julia is thinking, _he knows what's coming, how could he not_? She looks tired and sad as she looks me over, the brown of her eyes swelling with something I have not seen before. _Pity _I think suddenly, she pities me. Her lips are parted slightly, and we look at each other as though the words were already spoken.

"Spike, I can't do this" Julia says quietly, almost to herself.

I wilt immediately "Do what?"

"This" Her voice suddenly impatient, hands gesture vaguely.

"Why?"

"You know damn well why." I pause for a moment because quite frankly I'm stuck. I do know damn well why, as far as I'm concerned I' m too aware of why.

"We can get out you know, just a few phone calls and…" I shrug "and we're gone… like we existed in the first place."

Julia looks me over again. _Pity_. "Its not that easy… there's just too much…" She trails off not bothering to finish her thought and slips into her bra.

I know she isn't what I look for in a woman. Blonde, bright eyed, slight figure. She's too predictably beautiful. I wasn't surprised to find nothing wrong with her, not a blemish or weird scar to be found, no snaggle-tooth or strange earlobe. She was perfect, and perfect bothers me. Everything in my life had to be expendable and temporary... I had a hard time letting go of perfect. So… what is all this? Why am I doing this to her? To us? The air leaves my lungs in sickly quivers and I bury my face in the crook of her neck. She smells of cigarettes and the city. Julia doesn't smell like a woman should.

"Jules... I love you" This, I know was the last thing she wanted to hear from me. She says nothing. She breathes loudly through her nose (a snort?) and looks at the ceiling. I have known Julia long enough to know that this is how she keeps herself from exploding. In her head she counting to three and thinking about ponies. Fuzzy ponies to be specific. The kind she loved when she was a kid. I remember her telling me this over coffee, and laughing for ten minutes. No, Julia is not my type of woman at all.

"Alright…," she doesn't look at me as she reaches for her dress, she just keeps glancing anxiously around the room as though expecting a dozen armed Red Dragons to com busting out of the closet, "I'm going to go… I'm meeting Vicious at six; you're picking him up at 7:30, alright? We're going to be friendly, look each other in the eye… we are just going to pretend," She swallows hard, "this didn't happen."

I look down at my empty hands"I don't know if I can do that Julia." A dangerous mix of frustration and fury sweeps over her face, I brace for impact.

"Well you'd better! Don't you dare fuck this up for me! I swear to god James!" she stopped short as though startled by my name. I can understand why.She wasn't used to saying it, and I wasn't used to hearing it. It had been my gift to her. No one in the Dragons were open with their names. Shin, Lin, Spike… _Vicious_? No mother looks down at her kid and thinks "I'll call you Vicious". Code names are the only way to stay alive in the Dragons. Your name is your life line; if you need to run you've got your safe legit name. More importantlyit keeps you from being eaten alive by the syndicate; it keeps you separated from it, you're one foot out the door. I couldn't give Julia a ring or roses so I gave her who I was in a dark alley behind the bar. _James Connor Chao_.

Her eyes soften, but she looks away and shoves her feet into black pumps, "Don't do this to me James… don't do this just because you finally got the balls to tell me what you should have nine months ago." The stiletto heels of her shoes click loudly against the wood floor as Julia disappears down the hallway. I don't hear the door slam but I know she's gone; tearing herself from the thick space of my apartment and racing full force back into the ignorant real world, where no one knows what I said or how she acted. Julia is lost now amongst the anonymous strangers, quietly playing Layla to my Eric Clapton. She meant what she said, what happened last night has simply ceased to exist. She's going to stop at a news stand and pick up the new Vogue and a pack of smokes just to prove the normalcy of this March morning. She's done now.

I struggle groggily to my feet and glance out the window. It's sunny and unsurprisingly warm, just to spite me. I toy with the idea of running out after her, pulling Julia roughly aside just before she climbs into a cab. I could tell her I don't give a shit about Vicious, the Dragons or any of it. That it's _her_, pure and simple. She was in my head now; I love her and won't ever stop.

But I think better of it, and reach for my smokes.

"I'm done now…" The words come obediently from my mind, but I know I couldn't be further from the truth.


End file.
